fhe Green Lama
them suffer. You fired Sam Reno two years
ago to set him up business, and have been
taking your cut of his blackmail money
ever since. You even planned his murder,
in case he got troublesome; reporting that
you'd lost the gun was part of that. Of
course you didn't lose it. And when I told
you this morning that I meant to get to
the bottom of things, you decided that
Reno had to die now. You left the gun, ex-
pecting that the cops would pin it on
somebody who'd been at the Sportsmen's
Vanvelt listened to all this quietly.
When Flint was through he said, "Very
ingenious reasoning. Poor reporting, though.
How do you expect to prove such a fan-
"From the numbers on those bills,"
Flint said. "It happens that Reno kept a
record. Maddix, suppose you search him."
Maddix stepped' forward willingly, smirk-
ing at his assignment. Vanvelt stiffened;
from his pocket came an explosion that
dwarfed the drilling next door; Maddix
looked at him in horror, clutched his hands
to his belly, and crumpled to the floor.
Vanvelt backed to the door, reached behind
him for the knob, and snapped, "Nextl
I'm going through here, and the first man
to budge gets the same. And that goes for
anybody in the hall."
Ruth was out there. Flint closed his hand
over the first thing he could find — the
telephone. The wire wasn't long. It
wouldn't go far. He flung it out and down,
toward Vanvelt's feet, and went straight
at the man. Vanvelt's gun exploded a sec-
ond time, but the telephone had confused
him. The shot caught Flint's ankle. He
never knew ''it until afterward — after he
had pinned Vanvelt against the door, and
taken the gun away, and turned him over
Then he sat down on the floor, and that
was the way Ruth found him. She knelt
beside him, looking anxious; but he
grinned back and took her chin in his hand.
"Honey," he said, "I'm out of a job and
I want to get married. Can't put it off any
longer. Look what happened when I put off
kissing you this afternoon. It was terriblel
Never put off kissing ..."
They fixed that.
Your Name Is Gold
by Fredric Brown
Continued from High Adventure #74
the billfold itself, in letters of gold.
"You can throw that Reynolds one away,"
he told her "That's the one I want to buy. The
Her level gaze was curious, but showed less
surprise than he had anticipated.
"But," she protested, "that one isn't on sale."
"It's going to be on sale," said Dale, "if 1 have
to buy out the store's whole stock of billfolds to
get the sample. That one means something to me.
My name in gold, just as it says on the card."
She picked up the display card and detached
the sample from it.
"Well, if you want it that badly, 1 can use the
one you ordered and don't want for a sample. But
1 don't understand."
His eyes caught hers and held them.
"I'd like you to understand," he breathed. "Will
you— will you have dinner with me tonight?"
It was a long moment before she answered.
Her eyes seemed to look through his and behind
them, and to like what she saw. Even before she
answered. Dale knew she was going to say yes.
The Grim Shadow of Hate
CONTINUED FROM HIGH
ADVENTURE ISSUE #74 - THE
When I tell you, cover your faces and hold your
"But that was your famous badge. Phantom!"
protested Billy Rice.
"Platinum is considerably cheaper than life,"
Van said, without humor "Now lie down. . . . Here
There was a bright flare, a little hissing, then it
seemed as if the whole room had been shattered.
The thick metal trough took the solid impact of the
hard driven air, and metal and plaster cracked.
Van could not hear the others speaking, if they
did. The ears of all were completely deafened
for the moment. The explosion gave them quick
respite, however, for the force of the blast had
blown out nearly half of the chemical blaze.
Then Van saw the yawning hole in the cement
wall. He took Mademoiselle Corre in his arms.
Billy Rice was carrying Thelma Evans. A six-foot
tunnel opened before them.
Some fire was drawn into this new opening, but
Van reached stairs that led upward, before the heat
became unendurable. There was a flat door over his
head at the top of the stairs.
Van hammered at it with the butt of his gun.
There was no response. He found a lock, put the
muzzle against it and pulled the trigger. The door
There was a strange exit. Clothes hung on racks
and there was another door with a light beyond it.
The tunnel had opened into a clothes closet. Putting
Mademoiselle Corre to one side, the Phantom
found the closet door unlocked. He snapped it open
abruptly, gun in his hand.
The room beyond was empty. One table lamb
was burning. One quick glance at the clothing in the
closet, and articles in the room, and Van knew they
were in Dean Doremus' room.
Billy Rice was muttering low oaths.
His condemnation of the dean was bitter But he
had one thought.
"What proof have we, though, that Dean
Doremus had anything to do with the murders?" he
Outside the college grounds. Inspector Thomas
Gregg had been waiting for the Phantom's
signal, calling him into the campus. A rumbling
underground blast made Gregg forget all about the
signal. Other cars were arriving, two coming at high
State police, keeping an eye on the ill-fated
school, came roaring along as the muffled explosion
spelled out more trouble. Frank Havens and Muriel
Havens were in one of the speeding cars, coming
from New York. Steve Huston was in another car,
breaking the laws.
SO THE Phantom, now a much disheveled
"Jason Jones," and his rescued companions,
walked into a reception in Dean Doremus' office.
Dean Doremus was slumped in his big chair Mrs.
Jennings was fuming, complaining that any more
excitement would be the death of the fluttery little
Just to clear the record for all present, including
state police. Van announced:
"I seem to be Jason Jones. I am the Phantom.
Jason Jones is dead. He was killed to prevent him
becoming the new executor of Brookvard College
and manager of the considerable fortune willed to
the school by Harvey Rice."
Dean Doremus grabbed at his left side, gasping,
staring at the Phantom.
"You're lying!" he screeched in his high voice.
"You tricked me, so you could kill me with a shock!
They tried to murder Mrs. Jennings, too!"
"Dean Doremus," the Phantom interrupted
coldly, "you saved Harvey Rice's life by a blood
transfusion some twenty years ago, so he, founded
this big college for you?"
"Yes— yes, I did save his life then," said the
At this moment, the bony face of Professor
Arlow showed up. He came into the room almost
furtively. Mademoiselle Corre ran to him, with a
little cry of emotion.
Arlow pushed her from him almost roughly.
He had a book in his hand, evidently a ledger,
one he had said he had left in his office. It seemed
convenient indeed, for Arlow, that he had missed
being in the underground lab when the fire-bomb
book had exploded.
Arlow was staring at the Phantom as he brought
up the subject of the transfusion given Harvey Rice
years before by Dean Doremus, saving the shipping
magnate's life. Arlow looked as if he wished he had
not come in.
Mademoiselle Corre glanced at the Phantom,
then talked rapidly to Arlow in such a low tone that
those., nearest them could not hear her words. Van
disregarded all of this. He went on.
From Issue #74 - The Phantom Detective
"For several months, Dean Doremus, cheap
chemicals have been substituted for the high-
priced chemicals which show on your books," he
said inexorably. "And a war gas company lad been
getting thousands of dollars' worth of the good
chemicals, shown on your books as coming to the
DEAN DOREMUS seemed to forget his
heart. He reared to his feet.
"Another lie. Phantom!" he" squealed. "Where
are the books? I'll make you prove that!"
"Unfortunately the books have been destroyed
in the fire that was meant to erase Mademoiselle
Corre, Thelma Evans, Billy Rice, Professor Arlow
and myself, but by good luck Mademoiselle Corre
and Professor Arlow remain alive to testify about the
The dean pulled at his wing collar, as though it
was another kind of collar that was choking him.
"Mademoiselle Corre and Arlow are both thieves
and liars!" he got out.
Professor Arlow poked his bony face above other
heads in the room. He was holding Mademoiselle
Corre's hand. Inspector Gregg moved where he
might intercept him if he made a break.
"It seems. Dean," went on Van, "that you have
always worn wing collars. Then how about that
permanent If line about your throat which shows
you must have worn tight, round collars for years?"
I Dean Doremus kept his hand down, but his head
twisted, as if he could feel a modem collar choking
"That started me on the blood trail. Dean
Doremus," Van said tightly.
"The blood trail? You're crazy. Phantom. I don't
know what you're talking about!"
"Steve Huston will tell you. Dean."
The red-headed reporter stepped forward with
three cards in his hand.
"I have here the record of Harvey Rice's and
Dean Doremus' blood types, taken at the hospital
twenty years ago," he said. "The Phantom has given
me a record of the blood type of Professor Howard
who was murdered, but whose body never was
Dean Doremus appeared to be frozen on his
"And you are of the same size and weight as
was Dean Doremus, and a finished actor besides.
Professor Howard," Van accused. "But blood types
never change and never lie. Years ago, you were
known as Howard Hart, owner of the Crown Circus.
There was trouble which linked Harvey Rice up
with the circus—"
"The blood! I forgot the blood!"
BLOOD WILL TELL -SOMETIMES
DEAN DOREMUS' words, or more
correctly the words of Professor Howard, alias
Howard Hart, were hoarse squawks. But he was
quick. His hand darted under his frock coat.
The Phantom appeared slow to move. A wicked
automatic in the hand of the bogus dean was waved
at those nearest him, and he backed toward the
window and its fire-escape. Inspector Gregg swore,
and state policemen held off, seeing the desperation
in the dean's eyes. Dean Doremus had his back to
the open window when he reached it.
The dean's gun flamed twice. The bullets went
into the ceiling. A quick, thin hand had fastened on
his wrist, coming over his shoulder from outside the
Chip Dorian's face appeared. "Hold it. Mister!"
The dean attempted to whirl. Chip's hand
twisted and the dean went to Jus knees, groaning.
Then Mrs. Alford Jennings intervened.
"Stop it!" she cried. "I've known Dean Doremus
too long to believe any of that! The Phantom hasn't
any evidence in the record of blood types! It's all a
The Phantom turned slowly toward Mrs.
"You did your best, out of sympathy, Mrs.
Jennings, to try and make yourself believe this
Dean Doremus was real. I happen to know that you
suspected him, but you had occasion recently when
the dean met with a small accident to acquire some
stains.. These you checked with the old records
at the hospital."
"Yes, I did. Phantom, and what of it?" flared
Mrs. Jennings. "I discovered that the Harvey
Rice and Dean Doremus records show that Dean
Doremus here has the same type of blood."
Dean Doremus was swallowing hard. Chip
Dorian was holding him firmly.
"It is regretted that Dean Doremus had a gun
so handy, and that his character underwent such
an abrupt change, Mrs. Jennings," the Phantom
said quietly. "He has virtually convicted himself
by that bad break, because you never mentioned
The Grim Shadow of Hate
your vague suspicion, and he himself naturally
concluded the game was up, because he believed
that his blood did not match that of Harvey Rice and
the real Dean Doremus. But it did!"
Inspector Gregg was scowling heavily. He
called Van to one side.
"All of this is outside of my jurisdiction," he
said. "But mere resistance after an accusation, right
or wrong, will never convict the man in court."
The Phantom smiled a little. He produced a
folded circus poster, so old the paper threatened
to fall apart. It had been neatly pasted together on
"I have here a poster, supposed to represent the
owner and a troupe of performers of the Crown
Circus thirty years ago," he pointed out. "You
will note that the one designated as Howard Hart,
the owner, is dressed in a ringmaster's costume.
Observe the size of the figure, its posture, and
forget the mustache. Then note that Howard Hart
is standing with his left hand firmly pressed to
his left side. Evidently he has suffered from acute
indigestion for many years. He has the deep bass
voice of the ringmaster also— when he wants to use
it, as he did in his role of the Doctor. In fact, he has
considerable ability as a voice mimic, as witness
how he has been able to imitate the voice of his
poor victim, the real Dean Doremus.
"Still, even if he hadn't followed the pattern of
some of the shrewdest criminals, and retained the
Howard part of his name, he can be proved to be the
same man by the French Surete method of bone and
FOR all of her horsiness and sophistication,
Mrs. Alford Jennings was as soft-hearted as
they came, ready to take up the cudgels for one
"Dean Doremus!" she murmured. "Why, then,
you mean he was sitting in the Garden show,
expecting to see me poisoned on Topnotch? But,
Phantom, that knife— Tony Marino tried to kill the
"I doubt that," Van said dryly. "For a trained
acrobat, with an eye for timing and distance, Tony
Marino made a woefully ineffective attack upon
the dean, or the 'Doctor' He knocked him down
and the blade only slit the shoulder of his coat.
Doubtless, Tony Marino expected to be sprung
from jail quickly, even if he had been charged with
"It was a neatly framed cover-up for the Doctor,
who actually believed me to be Jason Jones. He
must have doubted that, though, when I employed a
smoke bomb to prevent your horse carrying you in
line with Mrs. Loren Hart and her ready knife."
Mrs. Jennings did not reply. A tear coursed
down one wind-browned cheek.
"You see," went on the Phantom,
"I judged that Karl Hart, or Charles Turner, the
lawyer, as you knew him, reported to the Doctor
that he had pushed Jason Jones from a window.
But the police had made no report of finding
a body, so when I showed up as Jason Jones, the
Charles Turner were much confused.
"Mrs. Loren Hart-also knew of this, and she
tried to make sure that Jason Jones died— but
she missed. She did not want Jones to live, for
Jones had been named by Harvey Rice to become
executive administrator of Brookvard College— not
because he suspected this bogus Dean Doremus,
but because he thought that the financial burden
was too much for his old friend at his age."
"Great Glory, Phantom!" ejaculated Inspector
Gregg. "That is a complicated set-up."
"There is still more," said Van. "For years this
Howard Hart, who became Professor Howard, had
been following the fortunes of Harvey Rice. He
nursed revenge in his heart because Harvey Rice
once had stopped his show through an animal
accident on shipboard.
"When the circus business petered out, the
Harts— Mrs. Loren Hart, Olivia and Karl Hart, and
the uncle, Howard Hart— went into a smalltime
murder racket in Chicago and later in New Orleans.
Some of their old circus performers, out of the show
business, became members of their killer mob.
"They operated almost the same as the killers
known as Murder, Incorporated, in Brooklyn, killing
for small fees. But they got away with it, accumulated
some money, and became ambitious to become big-
time murderers, extortionists, or whatever their
ruthless business made them."
"Yes." Inspector Gregg nodded. "We have Tony
and Kiel Marino, and several others, including that
chestnut vendor who was used as a red herring at the
time Jimmy Rice was murdered."
"So Howard Hart and his murder family came
East more than a year ago, Howard Hart had learned
that Harvey Rice was worth some forty millions.
He saw the means of grasping a huge fortune there,
and at the time, evidently believed it would be the
stepping stone toward a nation-wide, unusual racket
From Issue #74 - The Phantom Detective
by having a big college under his direction.
"Howard Hart probably had teaching credentials,
faked or otherwise, so as Professor Howard he was
employed by the real Dean Doremus. He studied
Dean Doremus' habits, learned the routine of his
office, then removed him. Wherefore, the disposal of
the dean's body as that of Professor Howard."
THERE were concerted gasps— at that an-
"It was unfortunate for Howard— or Hart— that
Dean Doremus wore wing collars," the Phantom
went on, "because they showed the line that had been
on Hart's neck for years, even through his make-up.
"Then Howard Hart was compelled to act
quickly after he learned that Harvey Rice intended
to write a new will making Jason Jones responsible
for the finances. The old will split the Rice fortune
four ways— one-fourth to the college, the remainder
divided equally between his twin grandsons and
"But in event of the death of either of these, their
inheritance also went to the college. So Hart was out
to make a clean sweep of the entire forty millions.
Also, it was the plan of the Hart death family to work
through control of the big college on higher class
killings, extortion and other profitable ventures.
"The Hart murder family was simply moving
from the lower criminal brackets into upper brackets
as big-time killers.
"But the inevitable happened. Uncle Howard
Hart had forty millions and control of the college in
sight, and it was too much for him. By removing the
others of his own family, he would be left with the
millions and the college for himself. He had made
a good start by putting Olivia and Karl out of the
"But the will. Phantom?" said Mrs. Jennings.
"Dean Doremus had the old will, and none of us ever
saw a new will."
"Harvey Rice never wrote a new will," stated
Van. "But he talked it into a dictaphone. He signed
it with fingerprints in red ink inside the cylinder,
making it as good as a written document and— he
believed— more indestructible. In which he was, of
"Billy Rice was told by his dying grandfather
to gain possession of the new will, then in his wall
safe, at once. Jason Jones followed Billy closely,
interested in his welfare. Billy knew of the wax
record, knew it was in the safe. He got the will and
passed it to Jason Jones for safekeeping as he heard
prowlers around the house.
"Charles Turner, or Karl Hart, was one of the
prowlers. He killed the Rice valet with a poisoned
feather. The safe was blown when the will was not
discovered elsewhere, but that was a blind. The
killers knew Billy had managed to secrete the new
will somehow. He was tortured, but he kept his
"Jason Jones was in another part of the house
when Billy Rice was seized. When Jones went home,
he put the wax record on a table. Charles Turner
strangled him and pushed him from a window, never
having the faintest idea that the will, in Harvey
Rice's own voice was on a table in the library, right
at his hand.
"By that will, Harvey Rice appointed Jason Jones
administrator of the financial affairs of Brookvard
College, with Dean Doremus to be freed of this
executive burden because of his apparent infirmity
Dean Doremus' head was bent and he made no
reply. He had come close, very close to an immense
fortune, but the cards played by the Phantom were
MURIEL HAVENS stood beside the
Phantom, smiling. Thelma Evans was sobbing in
Billy Rice's arms. Professor Arlow looked at lovely
Mademoiselle Corre, his bony face lighting up.
"Lucky you don't do anything halfway.
Phantom," Arlow said. "You knew that I also
followed Billy Rice when he went after the will, and
that I ran away to keep from tangling with the police
before Aimee and I could make certain of Dean
Doremus' crooked books."
The Phantom nodded. "The chemical substitution
provided money when the murder family from New
Orleans ran short," he said. "It kept Mrs. Loren Hart
in her society spot, and maintained Olivia Hart on
Muriel Havens smiled at the Phantom. Her hair
was concealed under the tight turban she had worn at
the Horse Show.
"I'll be ready for another case when my hair
grows out. Phantom," she said eagerly. "It won't
The Phantom grinned at her Then he was deadly
"In that case, I will see to it that you are kept well
supplied with the best hair remover I know," he said.
"I'm certain my own hair has turned gray under my
make-up— and you're responsible, young lady!"